The Last Pureblood
by BrownEyedSnake
Summary: The Second Wizarding War has been over for 21 Years, and Michael Serino, a young Pureblood Wizard has left for Hogwarts for the first time. In the wake of Werewolf attacks led by the fugitive Fenrir Greyback, Michael's sense of right and wrong is challenged, as he learns to navigate an environment made hostile to him by the scars of battle. Being on the side that lost is not easy.
1. Chapter 1: Goodbye Mother

**A/N: Welcome to my story, I hope you enjoy reading it. For those who don't know, this tale is set 21 years after Voldemort's death, and is about a young Pureblood named Michael Serino, who's been bought up on the ideals of Blood Purity, and his experiences and adventures at Hogwarts, a place which has no tolerance for his ideology.**

 **I would like to thank Alyssa for being an absolutely fantastic beta reader, your editing and corrections helped change my writing from brick to marble.**

 **Also a big thanks to Jean-Roberta, my amazing girlfriend who's been working so hard on drawing art for my story, which we'll hopefully be seeing sometime soon.**

 **And lastly, my gratitude goes out to you the reader, for taking the time out of your day to read my work. Enjoy.**

* * *

The warning whistle of the Hogwarts Express rang out across Platform nine and three quarters, Father strode across Platform Nine and Three Quarters, carrying my school trunk over his shoulder. Despite the fact he hasn't set foot on the battlefield for ten years, the strength he obtained from fighting on mainland Europe is still very impressive. In fact, I'd say he'd still be fighting there if Mother hadn't threatened to take me and leave. As far as I know, she's the only one who's ever managed to sway Father in his decision making.

The muscled man made his way through the crowd like a battering ram, clearing a path for Mother and I. The pair of us following quickly behind him, earning glares from the other parents who were in turn saying their goodbyes to their departing children. Thus, it took very little effort on our part to reach the small set of metal steps that lead up to the foremost carriage of the Hogwarts Express.

As I stepped up onto the steps, Father placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Now listen here boy, I know I've warned you already, but Hogwarts is filled with Mudbloods and the Blood Traitors who enable them." Father spat angrily, drawing the attention of several bystanders. Father has never been one for subtlety, but I can't judge, neither have I apparently.

"Husband, now's not the ti-"

"Quiet Daphne."

It was obvious that Mother wasn't happy with being hushed, but she didn't say anything. She never did in public, always respecting Father's authority as the family Patriarch. But you could see by her furrowed brow, the pair of them were going to have a discussion about this. Not a pleasant prospect really. An angry Mother is a scary Mother, to me at least. Father barely cares. I don't know how he does it. God knows she's tried scaring him, yelling, threatening to hex him, threatening to leave – nothing fazes him. He just gets this awful look in his eye and he stares. Stares and stares. It's incredibly unnerving, and I'd rather take an hour of Mother's yelling at me than a minute of that look.

"They'll try to bring you down for who you are, what you are. Never give in to them. Study hard, show them what you're made of. Because let me tell you boy, you're made of sterner stuff than the spineless Blood Traitors who run the school."

Looking straight at Father, his sharp brown eyes meeting mine, he kept his expression unreadable – yet I could feel the pride radiating off him, and I loved him for it.

Over Father's shoulder, I saw that a light skinned lady with bushy brown hair was standing behind us, with a redheaded girl about my age, both of whom were listening very keenly to our conversation. The lady in question was awfully familiar. My eyes darted from Father to the pair of them, I couldn't help not keeping the frown off my face as I stared at the eavesdroppers, wondering what on Earth they could possibly want.

Noticing my stare, the lady in question began to talk, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, but are you aware the Ministry has taken steps to outlaw Pureblood elitism from influencing children?"

Anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach, how dare she? This is the last time I'll see my parents for a long time and she wants to ruin _my_ moment with _politics?_ It seemed that Father was of a similar mind as his hand disappeared into his robes, and I knew for a fact that he was clutching his wand.

Mother went pale and tugged on his sleeve, "Husband... Please..."

Even from up here I could hear him grinding his teeth as he turned and snapped at the lady, facing her for the first time, "I could care less what the Ministry does, or doesn't. How I raise my child is my business Minister, not yours or your Ministry."

Oh Merlin... That's where I've seen the lady before... Hermione Granger - Weasley, Minister for Magic. War Hero and darling of the Magical world, not to mention notorious for stamping down on Pureblood Elitism – a dangerous ideology according to the Ministry.

I would have thought a sharp retort would be on the tip of the Minister's tongue, but to my surprise her jaw simply dropped. Out of astonishment or something else I could not tell.

"Antonius?" Her eyes widened, her voice timid, "Oh."

Now that... That was not the response I foresaw.

A middle-aged redhead man came up behind the Minister, slipping his arm around her waist, staring hard at my Father with a look that could only be described as disgust.

"You." He spat, "I thought you'd be dead by now you tosspot."

"Ronald! Let me handle this!" The Minister silenced her husband.

Anger bubbled, like an unruly Potion in a far too small cauldron. How dare this fat tub of lard speak to Father like that?

"How dare you speak to my Father in such a manner? He's twice the man you'll ever be." I snap at the messy haired redhead, causing his face to turn purple with fury.

"At least my Dad is a man, you're still just a boy, living in your dad's shadow." The Minister's daughter had spoken for the first time.

It was also for the first time that I payed her proper attention. She stood at least an inch taller than me, with her father's pale skin and red hair which she held in a ponytail. That said, if it wasn't in a pony tail, it'd be just as bushy as her mother's. However she held her father's blue eyes – but unlike his, there was a true fire behind them, and the dangerous expression on her face was all her mother's. And it was directed at me. For a second I was cowed – but that only served to fuel my own inferno that lit my belly aflame.

"At least my Blood's Pure you filthy, upjumped little M-"

"Michael!" Father growled, "That's enough boy, get on the train. We'll see you for Christmas."

"Yes Father." With what I hoped was a withering glare, I boarded the train, and to my frustration – the girl was not fazed at all.

"Yes, do what your Daddy says, don't even try thinking for yo-"

"That's enough Rose." I heard the Minister sigh, I heard my Father say something but by that stage, I'd already slammed the door to the carriage and lugged my trunk down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment.

It was only after I'd collapsed into a seat in an empty compartment that I realized when a spike of guilt impaled me, that I'd forgot to kiss Mother goodbye.

* * *

It was only after a great effort that I was able to lift my trunk up onto the rack above the seat, regret still coursing through my veins. Poor Mother, she's been nothing but good and kind to me. It was obvious to even a squib that Mother and Father's relationship was loveless, but Mother loved me fiercely.

When I was younger, Mother shielded me from an alcoholic Mudblood who mistook me for my Father; she held him back long enough for Father to arrive. Needless to say, the Mudblood spent a month in St. Mungos. Father on the other hand, had to go before the entire Wizengamot who accused him of a Hate Crime. A Hate Crime for defending us?

That was the point in my life that I began to hate the Ministry. They treated Father like a common criminal for doing nothing more than his duty! They were so desperate to find a reason to lock him up, but he got off with a warning about 'excessive force'. It makes me sick to my very bones.

After making a full recovery, the Mudblood, to my horror, was released without charge. Something about trauma from the war. Evil bastards.

I had nightmares about that man for over a year, but they soon stopped after Father taught me how to duel, all against the law of course, but none of us cared by that stage. When I turned nine, I was taken to Ollivanders and fitted for a wand.

Apparently the friendly old Wandmaker owed Father a favour from during the war and he was more than happy to repay it.

The wand in question sat on my lap, as I rubbed it up and down with a handkerchief, giving it a good clean. Father taught me to look after my wand and keep it in good condition, as one day it could very well save my life. The wand was made out of wood from a Fir Tree and contained a core from a Dragon Heartstring. Father hasn't told me much about his side of the family, but from what I gathered, each and every one of my ancestors used a Dragon Heartstring wand of some sort, Father included, all harvested from the same Dragon, a fact Mr. Ollivander proudly testified to.

The Dragon, if family legend has it, was a Hungarian Horntail that was slain by my ancestor Brutus Serinius, or Brutus Dragonslayer as he was more commonly known. So it was, that when Mr. Ollivander put together my wand it was with a Dragon Heartstring that Father dug out from the Family vaults.

The wand's colour was a light brown, almost caramel with a thick handle and lines cut into it for a better grip, and a wooden pommel a third of the way up the wand, marked the end of the handle area of the wand. The remainder of the wand is straight, except for an ominous bend that gives it a corkscrew like appearance.

Mr. Ollivander went on to say that the wand was twelve and a half inches long and unbending; meaning it would rather break than bend. I remember Father had found that incredibly amusing at the time.

I used to carry a wand holster at my hip, but after Friedrich von Baden, one of the other Purebloods snatched it and hexed me with it, I kept it stashed up the sleeve of my Robes instead.

The train had just left the station, and my parents had apparently left as soon as they knew I was safely aboard the train. It was sad really, to see all those families crying, waving off their kids, hugging them before they leave.

Not going to lie, I wanted that sort of love, attention and affection from Mother and Father. It's impossible however, Father wouldn't be seen dead crying and Mother only ever cries when she thinks no one is looking. Yeah, it's selfish, my parent's have provided me with the clothes on my back, the shelter of Greengrass Cottage, and the food in my belly. But I want it anyway, selfishness be damned.

* * *

The door to my compartment slid open, a pale faced boy in Slytherin robes stepped inside, followed by what I assumed to be his friend. I didn't recognize the black haired boy beside him, standing quietly in robes lined with Gryffindor colours. My eyes darted to the proud lion on his chest with a frown. The Slytherin however, wore a smirk that I would know anywhere.

"When I heard that Michael Serino _himself_ was coming to Hogwarts, I just couldn't believe it. But here you are."

My lips curl upwards into a smile as I stand and wrap the young man in a tight embrace which he eagerly returns.

"Cousin Scorpius." I gesture to the seat opposite mine, "It's been too long since I've seen you last. Sit, you and your friend are more than welcome to join me."

Scorpius and I take seats opposite each other while his friend sits down next to him. Scorpius Malfoy and I go back a long time. Our father's were best friend's at Hogwarts and they married the Greengrass sisters, my father marrying Daphne, and Scorpius's father, Uncle Draco, marrying Astoria, making them brothers and Scorpius and I cousins. We grew up together, close as brothers but after he went to Hogwarts and I to Durmstrang we were both too busy and too far apart to meet, though we did write on occasion. That being the case, we haven't seen each other since before we were eleven.

He looks exactly like I remember, the same smirk, the same slicked back white hair, the same mirthful eyes. Damn have I missed him.

"This is Albus by the way, we've been friends since first year. Albus, this is Michael, my cousin that I was telling you guys about." Scorpius jerked his head in Albus's direction, and I hold my hand out for him to shake which he does, albeit cautiously.

A green eyed monster worms its way through my soul. Does Scorpius already have a best friend? Has this Albus replaced me?

"Any friend of Scorpius's is a friend of mine." My best impression of a warm smile obviously didn't do much for him as he flinches away from me. What's wrong with this one?

Scorpius either doesn't notice or chooses not to, as he nodded at my tattered, faded and ripped uniform, "So confident that you'll be in Slytherin Michael?"

It was then that I realized a critical error on my parent's and indeed, my own part. Durmstrang has no Houses, which is why no one noticed the robes I donned, Father's old Hogwarts uniform, were emblazoned with the Snake of Slytherin and coloured green and silver, just like my tie. The nasty feeling of fear snaked its way into my bones as my stomach flipped. Oh God, this will be the death of me.

It was with great effort that I forced my mouth into a grin, "Of course I'll be in Slytherin. The other Houses aren't worth the mud on my boots."

The truth was, we couldn't afford one new uniform for me, let alone the three my list of equipment and gear requested we get. I'm not one to shy away from hard facts, so I'll just say we are poverty stricken and be done with it. If we weren't wizards, we wouldn't be able to afford food. Which is why I had to settle for Father's old uniforms that he wore in school, when we were an incredibly wealthy Family. They were made of fine material, just old. I praise God that the Uniform remained the same over the years, otherwise I'd be in for it.

Albus glared at me, obviously offended. "What's wrong with Gryffindor? All of my family have been in it for generations."

Oh yes, I forgot the young Gryffindor was there.

"What isn't wrong with Gryffindor?" I laugh, "It's a bastion of Mudbloods and Blood Traitors. A band of idiots who think with emotion instead of logic; like girls."

The look on Albus's face was priceless, red and contorted with rage the young Gryffindor abruptly stood up, walked out into the corridor and slammed the door behind him.

"Case in point." I shrug, gesturing at the door.

To my absolute shock, Scorpius was scowling at me. Scowling!

"That was bang out of order Cousin."

The laughter died in my throat and I felt my eyes narrow to slits, "What are you on about Scorpius?"

Scorpius sighed and shook his head, "Never mind. Do you still play Quidditch?"

The tension that previously filled the room left as quick as it came as we discussed our favourite sport of all time.

"You wound me Cousin!" I bark with laughter, "Of course I still play. I might have a go at the Slytherin team, do you need a Chaser?"

"We got Flint, Urquhart and Pucey as Chasers. Flint and Pucey are great, but Urquhart's a brute, can't aim a Quaffle to save his life. You might actually have a chance." Scorpius smiles, "I'm going for Seeker. Our last Seeker graduated last year, so the position's open. "

"I hope we get to play together then, just like old times." I grin, "Still supporting the Tornados?"

"Still supporting the Harpies?"

"Is the sky blue?" I ask, lacing my voice with sarcasm, "They're my home team Scorp, there's no way I wouldn't support them."

"Then you'll be disappointed to know that Albus's Mum played for them up till Two thousand and Four?" Scorpius said, his irritating smirk firmly in place,

My eyebrows rose on their own accord, "Say I believe you. Who was she?"

"She went by Ginevra Weasley back then. She's a Potter now."

"Albus is a Potter?" I ask, curiosity overtaking me, "Any relation to the Boy-who-Lived?"

"Yeah, Harry Potter's his dad. Nice guy actually." Scorpius says calmly, "Probably not someone you want to make mad though."

If Scorpius made his subliminal message any less subliminal, he'd be a Hufflepuff.

"He's got nothing to do with Hogwarts." I bark, no patience for implications, "He's a bloody Auror. He can't touch me while I'm there."

A spike of regret shot through me, as Scorpius flinched at my tone.

"He's teaching this year." He mumbled, "Defence Against the Dark Arts."

It felt like my stomach had been thrown off a cliff, it dropped so badly. The bloody Hero of the Wizarding World, one of Father's biggest enemies was going to teach me? Oh that's not good. That's not good at all.

* * *

Scorpius felt pity stir inside him as he watched his cousin silently fretting. He always did this, thinking no one would notice; but Scorpius did. It took a couple of years to pick up on, but he did. Michael had changed so much since their last meeting, where the two of them parted – one as a student of Durmstrang, and the other, one of Hogwarts.

Scorpius didn't particularly like this post – Durmstrang Michael. He's cruel, mean, cold and confrontational. All of these traits he demonstrated in his interaction with Albus. Not to mention, he's seemed to have developed a hatred for Muggleborns, something that shocked Scorpius heavily. Yes, Michael was never fond of Muggles and Muggleborns. But the venom that laced his tone when he said the M word was intense. And it scared him.

What Scorpius also noticed, was his appearance had changed dramatically. His light brown skin was still the same, but his hair, which was once curled and messy, was slicked back the same way his was. The colour of it changed too, where once it was a darker sort of chestnut, the years spent apart had darkened it to black. Only in the light of the dying sun did Scorpius see any remnants of the lighter shade that it once was.

The way Michael talked had changed. His voice was a bit deeper, a sign of puberty hitting but he'd lost the aristocratic sort of accent he proudly held onto when they were younger. Instead, his voice was rough, coarse and blunt. His words were said individually, rather than flowing into a sentence, as if he'd thought about each word before he's said them. A couple of harsh words from him felt like being hit by a Beater's Bat. With spikes.

But the change that scared Scorpius the most wasn't the way he talked the way he talked, or styled his hair, or even his new found hatred for Muggleborns. It was his eyes. Last time Scorpius had seen him, Michael's eyes always held a certain warmth behind them, as if he was smiling with just his eyes. But now... They were cold. Ice cold. Not vacant, nor dead, but cold. Cold and knowing. And when they weren't knowing they were searching, and Scorpius knew that they would find what they sought. An inevitability as it were. And when they searched for answers, they pierced their target like spears. Albus had been on the receiving end of such a stare earlier, and he saw that poor old Al could barely meet his gaze.

Though not all the change was bad, for all it's faults, Durmstrang seemed to have toughened Michael up. His back was that much straighter and chin that much higher. Where Michael used to overly care what others thought of him, and a harsh word would see his ego crumble, he now doesn't seem to care enough. His sensitivities are all but nonexistent, and he seems to be hell bent on telling the truth. Or at least, his version of it.

Though, Michael's immediate alienation of Al worried Scorpius. Al was his first friend at Hogwarts, and he worried what his cousin's backwards views would do to their friendship. Not to mention, what would he do if he was forced to choose between Al and his cousin?

If he chose to stick by his cousin, he'd lose Al, Rose, James, Fred, Ted and all the friends he'd made in Gryffindor, but Michael is his family. He hoped that he wouldn't have to choose any time soon; or at all. That would be the ideal situation. But as Scorpius knows full well, life is rarely ideal.

"I could talk to Al you know." Scorpius mumbled, "You can apologise if you want to make amends. There's no shame in admitting you were wrong."

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Michael's face contorted with rage, and he narrowed his eyes at Scorpius.

"I've done _nothing_ wrong. _Nothing._ " He hissed, "I didn't have you pegged for a Blood Traitor Cousin, but I've been wrong before."

"I don't care what your blood is!" Scorpius protested, "They're not bad people Michael! You just need to give them a chance."

"A chance to do what Scorpius?" Michael nearly yelled, "Steal more of my family's money? Rob us of our fortunes with a smile? I'm not so spineless as that. We're a dying breed Cousin, you and I are what's left of an ancient blood, and there are so few of us left. And the Mudbloods; they want us gone."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Scorpius shot back, "You make it sound like there's a plot to wipe us out! Years of inbreeding is to blame for that. As for _your g_ old, it's not yours, it's society's! We have a debt to pay for the suffering and misery we caused during the war. Our ancestors took that gold through centuries of war and violence, there are far better uses for it than sitting in some vault! Our family's gold built orphanages and museums! They helped settle new Muggleborns into our society and provided scholarships for those who couldn't afford tuition and school supplies by themselves! _And_ we're both still better off than most! What's there to complain about?"

The anger left Michael's face as quick as it came, replaced by confusion. Scorpius smirked, knowing that he won.

But like Michael's anger, his smirk disappeared as Michael's features twisted into an emotion regularly seen on his Grandfather Lucius – disgust.

And what Michael did next completely befuddled him. He rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, and bared it to Scorpius who thought – no, _knew_ for the briefest of seconds he'd see the infamous Dark Mark on his forearm. But there was nothing. Just plain, light brown skin, the same colour of his Father, and his Father's Father before him.

"I don't remember taking the Mark." Michael snarled, "Nor do I remember being a Death Eater, or ever serving the Dark Lord. What I do remember, is being born into a Pureblood Family. And if that makes me guilty of some kind of war crime in your eyes you can go straight to Hell. I owe nobody, anything. Why should I suffer for the actions of my Father? He payed his debt to society – Five years in Azkaban. And he's still being forced to pay reparations and ridiculously high taxes. And that affects my mother and I too." He rolled his sleeve back down.

"As for our fortunes, open your eyes and see it for yourself. The Ministry has taken away our money the same way we took it – at the end of a wand. If you weren't so blind you'd see they're just as bad as you accuse us to be." He finished, the bitterness evident in his tone.

" _Now get. Out._ " He spat out each word with venom, "I've had enough of Blood Traitors to last a lifetime."

Without another word, Scorpius left the compartment with a heavy heart. He was miserable. He didn't agree with everything his cousin had said, but it was obvious he'd somehow suffered. That much was true, Michael was never much of a liar, nor was he as particularly good at it as Scorpius. With that, a very confused Scorpius made his way down the train, looking for his friends to tell them of what he heard.

* * *

 **How was that?** **Did you sympathize with Michael? Or do you hope James catches up with him and gives him a good old fashioned hexing? If you are so inclined, let us all know what you think in the review section. I'm afraid that's all for today Folks, you'll see me with Chapter 2 when it's done! You can check my profile for updates on how it's coming along. Until then, good people!**


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Hogwarts

**A/N: Hi! Welcome to Chapter two of my story, The Last Pureblood. It's taken me a little while to update it, but it's here now. So grab a cup of tea, find a comfortable spot and enjoy!**

 **Thank you to my reviewers, pseudoluna and SilverBassetHound, the two of you are fantastic for leaving me a review.**

 **Big thank you once again to my girl, Jean-Roberta, who we have to thank for drawing the outstanding cover image. Hopefully it'll give you guys some idea about what Michael looks like. You have a safe trip home love, you're always in my heart.**

 **And Lastly, thank you reader for once again taking the time out of your day to read my story. I truly hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Rose Granger – Weasley sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express with her younger brother and cousin, Lily, already dressed in their school robes. Albus and his friend Scorpius had disappeared to find his cousin; a decent guy according to Scorpius. Rose hadn't much liked Scorpius at first, him being a Malfoy and the son of a Death Eater. Not to mention, her Dad had warned her off him. However, mostly due to Albus's insistence, she'd been civil, and over time friendly with the Malfoy boy. He could hold an intelligent conversation, and as far as she could tell he was kind, friendly and loyal to those he cares about. And that was good enough for her.

She may have even gone with the pair to meet and welcome this new boy, if she hadn't been brooding over the events on the Platform. That _boy_ had been incredibly nasty to her, he'd even nearly called her a Mudblood... And she wasn't even Muggleborn! He was just an idiot. He didn't know what he was talking about, he just repeated whatever his precious _father_ said, so she wasn't even going to be bothered by it.

But the truth is, she _was_ bothered by it. The venom on his tongue and the hatred in his eyes... Rose had never felt anything like that in her entire life. And it made her feel wrong. She wasn't scared of him like she was of spiders but something about him unnerved her. His whole air felt wrong.

What she didn't expect to feel was a slice of pity for the boy. He'd probably been brought up on Pureblood Propaganda and knew no different. She blamed the boy's father, teaching him to hate rather than to love. No one should have such hate within them, it's unnatural. But what she'd seen on her own Dad's face had truly scared her. She remembered the way he looked at the boy and his father, a look of sheer loathing. Never before had Rose seen her dad look at _anyone_ with such obvious disgust. Not even Scorpius's father Draco, whom her dad regularly bemoans. She remembered that her mum called the man Antonius, but that was all. Who were they?

What she didn't expect was for her answers to come in the form of an incredibly angry, red faced Albus Severus Potter.

The boy in question had thrown open the compartment door, causing poor Lily to jump in shock. Seemingly unaffected by his younger sister's reaction, Albus slammed the door shut once he was inside.

"What's gotten into you?" Rose frowned.

"Scorpius's cousin." He growled, "His last name is Serino, Rose."

It was as if there was an unsolved jigsaw puzzle in her mind that had now solved itself. Antonius Serino was a Death Eater during the Second Wizarding War who'd fought to the end even after Voldemort was defeated. He'd killed Uncle Fred.

The colour seemed to drain from her face as she realized that the nasty, foul boy she'd met on the station and Scorpius's cousin were one and the same. The pity she'd previously felt vanished into oblivion.

"I met him on the Platform." She whispered, "He nearly called me a Mudblood."

Albus flinched at the word, and Lily and Hugo both went pale.

"What stopped him?"

"His dad... Which is ironic because I swear I heard the word Mudblood come out of his mouth at least three times before Mum talked to him."

A grin appeared on Albus's face, well aware of his aunt Hermione's no-compromise, crusading attitude against Pureblood Elitism.

"Oh I'd have loved to have seen that. How many pieces did she leave him in?"

Rose's stomach twisted nervously. How would she tell Albus that the great Hermione Granger-Weasley, Minister for Magic had simply gawped at the man?

"She... She just... Stared at him, like he was from another world. She knew him too. I still have no idea what happened." Rose shook her head confusedly.

 _"How have you been Antonius?" Hermione asked gently._

 _"Well enough." Antonius responded gruffly, "You?"_

 _"Stressful. Being Minister is hard work, but I wouldn't have it any other way."_

 _"Of course you wouldn't." Antonius said fondly._

 _Rose couldn't believe her ears, she couldn't imagine any kind of positive emotion, let alone fondness coming out of this harsh man's voice, but there it was._

Thinking back, Rose knew it was definitely some kind of affection; that tone of voice couldn't be mistaken for anything else. But why would an ex Death Eater of all people, think positively of a Muggleborn?

"That... doesn't sound anything like Aunt Hermione to freeze up. What happened?" Albus frowned.

"She didn't freeze up, she seemed to know him. And he knew her. She was actually quite civil to him, and he was civil back!" Rose said in disbelief, "Not that Mum isn't civil, she's the perfect example of it really – but why would she be so nice to a Death Eater? And why would _he_ be so nice to her?"

"I dunno Rose. But I want to find out. Do you think you should write home to Aunt Hermione and ask her? Or Uncle Ron?"

"Worth a try. I could also ask Grandpa. I'm taking Muggle Studies this year, so I'll have plenty of time to ask him about it."

Albus laughed, "I don't get why you take Muggle Studies Rose. Your Mum's Muggleborn for Merlin's sake."

"It's interesting to learn about from a Wizarding point of view." Rose said wisely, "And it's important, Muggles and Wizards go hand in hand these day, sometimes very literally."

"True." Albus shrugged non committedly, "It sounds boring though. Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes for me."

"Ancient Runes is a great class. It's difficult, but very worthwhile if you understand it. But I'm not doing it. I'll be seeing you in Care of Magical Creatures. From what Dad and Uncle Harry said, Hagrid always has an interesting Curriculum. Albeit a dangerous one."

Rose turned her attention toward Hugo and Lily.

"Are you two looking forward to starting Hogwarts?"

Hugo grunted in affirmation, while Lily launched into a tirade of things she wants to learn.

"I can't wait to learn from Dad in Defence Against the Dark Arts! Jinxes and Hexes! James said he'll teach me how to hex a Slytherin, can you believe it? Oh, Herbology sounds fun too! And Potions! Do you think Professor Slughorn will help me brew a Love Potion?"

"No Lily, Love Potions are against school rules. They're also very cruel." Rose lectured, "They don't give the victim a choice in the matter, it's not right. It doesn't stop Uncle George and Dad from selling them at their shop... They should be against the Law."

"Don't be such a spoilsport Rose." Lily giggled, "They're just a bit of fun! Right Hugo?"

"I sure wouldn't want one used on me." Hugo grumbled.

"You're always so grumpy." Lily complained, "Cheer up, you're going to Hogwarts for the love of Merlin! What's the worst that could happen?"

"Mum, Dad and Uncle Harry nearly got eaten by a three headed dog in their first year."

Lily merely wrapped an arm around her cousin, "Details, details. It's not important Hugo! We're going to Hogwarts!"

"Where do you think you'll be sorted Lily?" Rose asked kindly.

"No, Rose don't!" Albus cried desperately, but it was far too late.

" _Gryffindor where dwell the brave at heart! Daring, nerve and chivalry are what sets Gryffindors apart!"_

"She's been singing that _all_ summer." Albus groaned, "And then she started singing the other house's parts too, even Slytherin's."

"How annoying." Hugo muttered.

"Well..." Rose smiled, "At least we know Lily will never be out of a job. If all else fails, she can be a sorting hat."

The four of them laughed merrily as the compartment door slid open and a pale looking – well even paler looking than usual Scorpius stood rigid at the door.

"May I come in?" He asked quietly

"Course mate, have a seat." Albus budged over to make room for Scorpius, "Finally grew some common sense and left your lunatic cousin then huh?"

Scorpius flinched at the mention of his cousin.

"Actually... He kicked me out and called me a Blood Traitor." He mumbled.

"What a prat. You wait till James hears about this, he'll deal with him." Albus patted him on the back reassuringly.

"No! Please don't do that!" Scorpius's eyes went wide, "He doesn't deserve that! He's not so bad I swear it!"

"But... What? Scorp, he called you a Blood Traitor and kicked you out of his compartment! And you're still sticking up for him? He's meant to be your family!" Albus said in disbelief.

Scorpius's chin was held uncharacteristically high, grey eyes boring straight into Albus's emerald green in a confident manner completely unlike him. Even Rose was impressed.

"And that's precisely why I'm sticking up for him. He's my family." He said firmly, "He's a good person Al, you just need to get to know him."

Rose snorted, and Scorpius's confident manner shattered as he looked at her, eyes wide as saucers, as if terrified by what she had to say.

"If his dad didn't stop him, he'd have called me a Mudblood. He insulted all of Gryffindor house, my family and my mum. If Al doesn't tell James about this, I will. Serino will deserve everything that comes to him."

"Rose, please don't." Scorpius looked at her with pleading eyes, "He's my cousin, he'll change! Please!"

"No Scorpius. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences. His line of thinking is dangerous, it's what lead to so many deaths during the war. You of all people should know that."

Scorpius slumped into his seat, looking desperately at Albus, who shifted uncomfortably, looking guilty.

"Al?"

"Sorry mate, there's not much I can do about it."

Rose's stomach churned in pity for Scorpius, whose face twisted into something that looked something akin to despair, but she did not waver. Sometimes, doing the right thing is difficult, remembering her Mum's words – "Always do what is right Rose, not what is easy."

"He's going to hate me." Scorpius whispered.

"It sounds like he already does Scorp." Albus said awkwardly, patting him on the back.

"He's my family Al! You're not meant to give up on family."

Tears were starting to form in his eyes which he furiously wiped away, hoping no one would see them. He had no such luck.

"Oh, no Scorp don't cry." Albus said desperately, throwing a filthy look at Rose, "I'll talk to James, he'll go easy on him I promise. It'll turn out alright, you'll see."

"I-I'm not crying Al." Scorpius said unconvincingly, "I was looking forward to seeing him, and he does this! It's been two years since I've seen him... He's changed so much. I almost have trouble believing it's him."

"I'm sorry Scorp. People change you know? It's just how life works." Albus said softly, "Maybe he'll change again. You never know."

Rose could tell Scorpius was on the verge of tears, and she felt bad for him, but she would not compromise on this.

Scorpius brushed away the tears that had formed in his eyes, and his face made the change from upset to impassive, a trick which Rose envied him of.

"It's alright Al, I'll sort it out. I suppose we must be almost there."

Rose had no idea how he did that. One second, he'd be all upset and the next he'd be completely normal. It irritated Rose to no end that he could do that. And his accurate intuition irritated her as well, because as soon as he said that, a whistle blew and the Train slammed on the breaks.

Scorpius smirked his trademark smirk, causing Albus to laugh.

"It's good to have you back Scorp."

* * *

 _"Oh you may think I am barmy,_

 _or you may be scared of me,_

 _For never have you seen,_

 _A Talking Hat like me._

 _But fear not new ones,_

 _For I shall not bite,_

 _I'll simply look inside your head,_

 _and see where you should be!_

 _In Gryffindor perhaps you'll go,_

 _where dwell the bravest of the four!_

 _Their chivalry, daring and nerve,_

 _Make Gryffindors who they are!_

 _Or will it be Hufflepuff,_

 _Kind hearts and tolerant minds!_

 _Hufflepuffs aren't afraid to work,_

 _and get what they deserve._

 _Maybe you'll become a Ravenclaw,_

 _Where wit and learning thrive,_

 _And those that are sharp of mind,_

 _Find themselves true friends._

 _And Finally there's Slytherin,_

 _With history great yet checkered!_

 _Will you join these cunning folk?_

 _Whose ambitions know no ends._

 _So stick me on,_

 _Do not fear,_

 _I'm ready for you now!_

 _I'll show you where you are to go,_

 _For I'm the Sorting Hat!_

Rose burst into applause with the rest of the school as the Sorting Hat finished its song. It was different from the previous two years Rose had been at Hogwarts, usually the Hat preached unity, forgiveness and redemption but this year was different.

Perhaps the Hat realized it was a waste of time, as house tensions were still incredibly high. And by 'house tensions' she meant that Slytherin was still the most hated house at Hogwarts, them being the only house still clinging to the outdated and frankly bigoted notion of Blood Purity.

That being said, not all Slytherins were bad. Scorpius has been working hard over the years, creating a better name for Slytherin house, and several of the younger students have been working with him, trying to make amends for past wrongs. The fault lies at the feet of the Fifth through Seventh Years, who still hold to traditional Slytherin beliefs, ruining it for the rest of Slytherin House. Rose however, had no problem with separating the younger Slytherins from the older ones. Until today, when she met Michael Serino at the Platform. Even though he's as young as Scorpius, he's just as bad, if not worse than the Fifth years.

Serino himself, was nowhere to be seen. She spotted Scorpius sitting with some of the second years at Slytherin table, but Serino was not with him. She frowned at the thought, wondering where he might be.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening doors of the Great Hall, a stream of First Years lead by her younger Brother Hugo and the Scamander twins followed Professor Longbottom up to the front of the Hall, where atop the stairs the Sorting Hat sat upon a stool.

The Sorting went by smoothly, Rose clapped and cheered with the rest of her House when a First Year was sorted in Gryffindor, and smiled encouragingly when a terrified First Year met her gaze.

"Potter, Lily!"

The Hall hushed, whispers breaking out across the four tables, mainly about which House will have the Honour of getting the latest Potter child. Rose rolled her eyes as whispers of a 'Hattrick' went up and down the Gryffindor Table.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

James Potter was first on his feet, rushing to his younger sister and wrapping her in one of his great bear hugs, causing half the Hall and the Teachers to laugh merrily . With flushed cheeks, but a proud look in her eyes she took her place with her family as Gryffindor House welcomed her home.

An incredibly loud roar of pride came from Hufflepuff as not one, but two of the Scamander twins were sorted in the House of their Great Grandfather – Newt Scamander.

"Granger-Weasley, Hugo!"

The Potter – Weasley Clan went tense with anticipation, none more so than Rose herself, watching with concern as her brother, marched up the stairs, a grim expression on his face that he picked up from his Father in his later years.

With the Sorting Hat on his head, Hugo screwed up his face in concentration, violently shaking his head before the Sorting Hat made its verdict known.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Rose was first to her feet as a relieved smile warmed her brother's features, all of Gryffindor was cheering and congratulating their newest member. The youngest of the Weasley's had made it into Gryffindor.

And with 'Zabini, Daniel' being sorted into Slytherin, Rose sat back and stared at the Teacher's table with anticipation, waiting for the Headmistress, Professor McGonagall to announce Start of Term Feast's initiation.

Indeed, as Hugo Weasley was being patted on the back by his new Housemates, Professor McGonagall stood and held her palms out for silence.

"To our new Students, welcome! To our old students, welcome back." Rose noticed several of the Professor's, including her Uncle Harry and Professor Longbottom smile sadly, as if remembering a time gone by.

"Before we begin our feast, there are some start of term announcements to make. Firstly, I'm proud to welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Harry Potter."

Rose was on her feet with the rest of the roaring Lions as her Uncle gave a small bow and a wave to the school, who were largely on their feet with the Gryffindors, including the younger Slytherins. The older students remained noticeably still.

Once the school had settled down, Professor McGonagall was able to continue.

"Secondly, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you once again that products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are banned, and any use of them will result in a confiscation of said products, and detention for the users."

The Headmistress sent an icy glare down the Gryffindor table, namely at the second coming of the Marauders, James Potter and Fred Weasley, notorious pranksters both. Rose fought to control a giggle that was forcing its way to the surface.

"Thirdly, as usual the Forbidden Forest and the Graveyard just outside of it are strictly out of bounds to all students. Any attempts to breach either of these areas will be met with severe punishment. Should any student wish to pay their respects to the fallen during the war, they may do so at the _proper_ memorial in their own _free time_ and most certainly _not_ after curfew. No exceptions will be made on that matter _._ "

Rose liked visiting the memorial. She'd often go to sit there and eat lunch, or by her Uncle Fred's grave and talk to him. He obviously couldn't talk back, but she could feel that he was there with her. She often wondered what he was like. Of course, Mum, Dad and Aunt Ginny told her all about him but it's not the same as knowing someone for real; another grievance she could thank Serino for.

"My final announcement is of an unusual nature. For the first time in our recorded history, we welcome a transfer student from the Durmstrang Institute. I trust that you will all do your part in making him feel welcome. Mr. Serino, kindly step forward so you may be sorted into your House."

Rose was first to note that Professor McGonagall's tone was stiff, but genuinely welcoming. Of course, McGonagall would know about the boy's family history, but she's always been fair to everyone. Even to Scorpius when he came to Hogwarts. The Headmistress never judged an individual on their family, but who they were and who they chose to be.

Whisper's broke out amongst the students, and she heard footsteps coming from the back of the Great Hall, growing louder. So that's where he was lurking.

All heads turned to look at him, as Michael Serino strode down the aisle in the middle of the Great Hall, between the Gryffindor table on his right, and the Ravenclaw on his left. Seemingly unperturbed by the whispers of 'Death Eater' and 'Murderer' he continued, with his head held high and eyes vacant of emotion.

She couldn't help but feel the smallest tingling respect for him. Despite the blatant name calling, he stood proud and moved with deliberation and purpose. Then she remembered who she was looking at. Her curious look turned into a glare as his gaze found hers. And for the briefest of moments, she saw a flicker of recognition in his sharp brown eyes before he turned his gaze forward, and only forward to where he intended to be.

* * *

The Sorting was mildly interesting to watch. Another Potter in Gryffindor, the Scamander's in Hufflepuff and the youngest Weasley runt in Gryffindor. The Headmistress held my attention as she spoke, Blood Traitor she may be – she is still the Headmistress and deserves my full attention and respect. A lesson I learnt well in Durmstrang, a few well placed swats from a cane instilled in me a healthy respect for authority.

With the sorting and announcements over, the Headmistress's welcome was genuine, at least I hoped it was, but the whispers that echoed through the Great Hall made me reluctant to step forward.

But step forward I did, and as I did so, whispers of 'Death Eater', 'Murderer' and 'Dark Wizard' reached my ears. My stomach twisted in disgust and no small measure of anxiety. These whispering gossipers are cowards, but even cowards can be brave when they're surrounded by their fellows, which could very well be something to concern about later on.

That said, they will get no weakness, no fear from me. No matter what they say or do, I will hold my head high and go on with the dignity only a Pureblood can manage.

All of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables glared fiercely at me, as if daring me to be sorted there. Now that would be especially embarrassing, especially with my green and silver uniform.

A great deal of Ravenclaw stared with a mild curiosity, as did Slytherin. At least the entire school doesn't immediately hate me. Though I suppose there's always time to make that happen later.

Scorpius's platinum hair stood out at the far end of the table, staring at his feet. The fool refuses to even look at me, no matter.

Amidst the glares of the Gryffindors I spot a familiar face, the girl from the Platform. Her bright blue eyes shone with recognition and hatred; and for some reason, it made my belly squirm violently. It was very difficult to look at her. So instead, my eyes darted to the teachers, but that gave me very little relief.

The vast majority of them had mixed expressions of anger and revulsion written all over their faces, including the Professor holding the Sorting Hat. How can the teachers hate me when they've never even met me?

My stomach sank when I saw Harry Potter sitting up there with the rest of the teachers, dislike embedded in those famous green eyes of his. Although I knew he was teaching already, it didn't make it any easier to see. Classes with him will be no fun for me at all.

The only teacher's that weren't eying me with some kind disgust were an old man in brown robes and a bowtie and Headmistress McGonagall. My heart filled with gratitude when the old man gave me a small smile and a nod, which I quickly returned before turning my eyes to the Headmistress, who was looking at me with what might have been apprehension. But what I did know is she was watching my every move. Out of suspicion or some other motive? I could not tell.

Taking a seat on the stool, it was obvious why the First Years were intimidated, the view of the school was horrific. Hundreds of eyes staring up at me, most of them hostile and over a dozen eyes staring into your back, again, most of them hostile, while you're completely vulnerable on a rickety bloody stool was not pleasant.

The Sorting Hat slipped onto my head and my vision went black as it fell past my ears, covering my eyes.

 _"Difficult. Very, very difficult. Intelligence and potential yes... Much like your father you know. But not very sure of yourself are you? Don't be ashamed boy, very few are. But where to put you?_

 _"Just do it, damn it."_

 _"Not at all patient, you'd do well in Gryffindor." The Sorting Hat laughed, "Oh yes, you've got plenty of courage, and a fierce devotion to what is Just. How admirable."_

 _"Don't you dare."_

 _"Are you sure? Gryffindor would help you attain your deepest, most personal desires. Yes, I can read you like a book young Michael, and I can tell you this – you are not your Father, however much you want to be."_

 _"I'd rather die than be placed in that cesspool full of Mudbloods."_

 _"Is that so? There's only one place for you then._ SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

 **A.N: And that's a wrap people! I hope you enjoyed it, I always put my best effort into my writing for my satisfaction and your entertainment. If you desire, let me know what you thought of it in the reviews! Thoughts, comments and criticisms are more than welcome. Happy Fourth of July to my American readers as well, stay safe out there.**

 **Chapter three is well on the way already, and I hope to get that out to you guys some time soon. Have a great week! - BrownEyedSnake.**


	3. Chapter 3: Nothing like a feast

**A/N: Hello again! Welcome back to the Last Pureblood. I'm well aware it's been a while since I've last updated, but I've made it my personal goal to not keep you wonderful people waiting this long in future.**

 **I'd like to thank my two new, and outstanding Beta Readers - Ana and Julie. The pair of you have done an excellent job with this chapter. I look forward to working with you both going forward.**

 **And of course, I'd like to thank you the reader, for taking the time out of your day to read my work. I truly appreciate it.**

* * *

Silence. No one in the Great Hall knew how to react. It only lasted for a moment, for the elder Slytherins were on their feet with a heart-stopping roar of pride, clapping, cheering and stamping their feet – creating enough noise for the entire school. Even the younger ones were clapping, and those that didn't know any better cheered with their upperclassmen.

The elder students, who'd kindly shuffled over to make a space for me, beckoned me over. Sparing a brief glance at a politely clapping Scorpius on my way over, I sat down at the place my elders created for me on the right-hand-side of the table. They then proceeded to pat me on the back and give me firm handshakes in a haze of smiles and congratulations.

The racket slowly died around me, and my eyes turned back to the teacher's table, where Headmistress McGonagall was once again on her feet. A couple of my Professors saw fit to send me daggers, making me wonder how they could wish me ill when I hadn't even met them yet. The old man in the brown robes, however, was positively beaming as if the sun would never set.

"Now that the sorting is complete, let the feast... begin!"

As Professor McGonagall clapped her hands together, all across Slytherin table, and indeed the tables of the other houses, plate upon plate of all sorts of exquisite, exotic and elaborate looking foods appeared. If this was the norm, I found myself surprised the students of Hogwarts weren't obese. Now that would have been an amusing sight.

The students around me were filling their plates with all sorts of delights, ranging from lamb chops and Roast Beef to sausage and mash. Such vast amounts of food... Were we expected to eat it all? Did we get punished if we didn't?

"Looks good huh?"

My eyes darted to the one who had spoken, a blue-eyed boy with messy black hair. His wide grin showed off a set of yellow, malformed, crooked teeth.

"There's all sorts to eat, help yourself to as much as you like. No worries if you can't finish it, it all vanishes anyway. Is it any better than Durmstrang?"

"There's certainly a lot more of it." I answered, sparing a glance to the food once more.

"They didn't give you much to eat there did they?"

"Not really," I shrugged, "there was really only enough so we didn't starve."

"Did they at least let you play Quidditch?" The boy asked, his eyes flashing in curiosity.

"Oh yes. I played Chaser for the Dark Arts Team" I reply nonchalantly. I watched as a frown appeared on his face and I couldn't help but mirror the action, what was so wrong with what I had said?

"Dark Arts Team? You didn't play for a House?" He inquired, looking both amazed and confused.

"Didn't have houses," I grunted, "only classes. One of the Headmasters thought Houses were too divisive."

"He got that right." The boy snorted, "Marius Flint, Fifth Year."

I shook Flint's hand, "Pleasure Mister Flint. Michael Serino, Pureblood."

A couple of others around us looked at me strangely, as if I'd grown a second head. Some of the older students eyed me with what might have been curiosity.

"Blood doesn't count for much round here mate" Flint whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "But for us in Fifth year, it means everything." He scanned the table for a moment then asked, "You believe in the old ways then?"

"I'm damn proud of the blood that flows through my veins, and I refuse to pretend that I'm not." I declared.

My voice carried further than I expected, many Slytherins and even some of the Ravenclaws stopped their eating to gawk. Now that... That wasn't what I'd intended to do. Fully recovered from their shock, some of the Ravenclaws threw down their knives and forks and stared at me, disgust and shock written all over their features.

"What are you looking at Smith? See something you like?" Flint teased one of the onlookers.

A brown-haired girl with blazing brown orbs rounded on my new friend. "I'm looking at your new pet bigot, Flint." She snapped, "Did you train him? Or did he come to you like that?"

"I'm no one's pet." I snarled, "Keep sticking your ugly-looking nose into other people's business, and you'll lose it." I threatened. I felt the looks of disgust and hate attacking me but I ignored them and instead looked straight ahead, not paying any attention to the glares. I raised my head higher as a couple of Slytherins snickered and Smith turned red with anger.

"You're all the same. Bullying, elitist snobs with nothing better to do than to pick on those weaker than you. Merlin knows what you'll do when someone better than you comes along." She sneered weakly with her brown eyes still narrowed at us.

Flint looked around the Great Hall with eyes wide before breathing a sigh of relief.

"Oh praise be. I thought you were actually implying that there's someone in this Hall better than us. Thank Merlin it's just you we've got to worry about." He said, sounding positively relieved. I smirked coldly at the girl as her features twisted into somewhat of an embarrassed glare.

The Slytherins that were previously snickering were positively howling with laughter, less so at what Flint had said but at the spluttering, strawberry-faced brunette, who'd sat back down in her seat with a huff.

"Is it customary at Hogwarts to interrupt conversations like that?" I asked Flint, finally reaching out for a bit of food.

"If the one talking is a Slytherin then yes." He answered dryly, shaking his head slightly, "You'll get used to it" he added.

The rest of the feast passed uneventfully, with the odd foul glance from someone across the Hall, which for the most part I ignored. My eyes however, did meet the Granger girl from the Platform. Granger-Weasley her name was, like her Mother. She seemed nice enough...for a Mudblood.

Her father was a foul piece of work though. Fat, useless, no sense of fashion and a grudge for my Father. The only thing I particularly liked about him was the way his face went purple when I had insulted him earlier.

Of course, I knew at least some of what Father had gotten up to during the war. I'd heard the stories from Professor Dolohov, an old comrade of his; the two had fought side by side in the last battle. What Father did tell me however, was that the Dark Lord was a complete madman. Certainly, both Father and I sympathised with his ideals, a society without Mudbloods would be nice – but murder, torture and genocide was certainly not the way to go about it. There was no justice in that. Nor was there pride.

And that was how Father, and indeed, Mother raised me – to be just in everything I did.

It was only then that I realised that I'd been staring. Granger – Weasley had her eyes narrowed in a glare that, it seemed, she reserved just for me. I felt honoured. Not really, but it was amusing none the less. She was quite pretty, I could give her that much. However, she definitely could have used an attitude adjustment.

Indeed, it seemed she'd told her friends all about me, because what looked like half the Gryffindor table glared at me with open hatred. Including Albus from the train. He must have been related to her in some way. Actually now that I thought about it, most of Gryffindor House would have been related to her. With a jerk of my head in mock acknowledgment, I went back to my meal. The chips here were especially good, and the Steak? To die for.

* * *

"Before we end the Feast, we will sing the school song. School stand."

While we got to our feet, Professor McGonagall too had risen and flicked her wand, a large magical parchment dropped from the ceiling to display itself in front of the school. On it were words. Lyrics to the school song, I presumed. It didn't look like a particularly rousing school song, in fact judging by the lyrics it looked incredibly silly.

"Pick your favourite tune, and off we go."

What started then could only be described as complete and utter chaos.

The entire school, teachers included, erupted into song. There was nothing particularly musical about it. One student was howling the song out like a wolf, others had somehow magnified the sound of their voices so they drowned out their neighbours. To my surprise, Flint and his friends had joined in, arms over each other's shoulders and singing to the tune of an old Wizarding folk song I knew from Father's old record player. The four of them had introduced themselves during dessert as Urquhart, Pucey, Goyle and Nott.

I chose to sing to the same tune and Pucey clapped me on the back and stuck his arm over my shoulder. It was good to know that I had comrades of similar minds and hearts, I knew they'd watch out for me, and I'd do the same to the best of my abilities.

The song ended with a Hufflepuff student singing slow opera, which ended with a roar of approval from the Hufflepuff table.

Professor McGonagall chuckled politely with the school before clapping her hands together.

"And that's that. Classes begin in the morning, no excuses for being late, so off to bed everyone. Pip Pip!"

"Is she quite alright in the head?" I asked Pucey, frowning.

The brunette only laughed.

"She's as sane as anyone else in this school. I thought she was mad too, till Warrington said she'd made a habit of quoting an old Headmaster. Dumbledore I think. Can't remember what he's famous for, but I've got a chocolate frog card of him somewhere."

"He beat Grindelwald in a duel." I said bitterly, "Sheer luck if you ask me."

"Ah that's it. Well I wouldn't know, he's just another old man in history to me. I might be more interested if Binns wasn't so dull." He said with a pointed look of annoyance.

"What's wrong with Binns?"

"He's a ghost." A girl to my left said, "Can't teach to save his life. His voice just puts everyone to sleep." After seeing my slightly raised eyebrows she added, "Oh, excuse me. Rebecca Higgs, fifth year."

"Becca here wants to be Seeker for the team." Pucey laughed, "Sorry Becca, still only boys allowed."

We were making our way out of the Great Hall, past the tables and out the large doors, when I felt a set of eyes on me.

Looking around, then down, a redheaded first year girl was staring intently at me. A little bit disturbed, I frowned at her, which caused her to realise that she'd been spotted. The girl squealed and ran behind her older brown-haired brother, clutching his red-coloured robes. The brother in question looked down at her, then at me questioningly. Then upon recognising me, his curious expression formed into one of intense dislike.

"You leave my sister alone Serino, or else," he threatened, stepping in front of the younger girl more so she was completely behind him.

"Sod off Potter, he didn't do anything wrong. Come on Michael, I'll show you the Common Room." Pucey snarled, grabbing my arm and tugging me away.

We made a safe exit from the Entrance Hall, making our way down what Pucey called the 'Grand Staircase.' It was an incredible work of engineering, pleasant to look at, hundreds of paintings lining the walls. And the best thing about it, in my opinion, was the staircases moved. It took some getting used to being on moving staircases, but it was the surest way to get down to the Dungeons, where our Common Room lay.

You could tell you were in the dungeons when the temperature dropped. From the warmth of the Great Hall, it was shocking. A chill went up my spine as we navigated the dark corridors. My guess was that we were in firm Slytherin territory.

"Michael." Pucey began, "I hope you don't mind if I call you that? That guy back there is not to be messed with. Nor anyone he's related to. If you do, he'll make your life a living hell," he warned, sounding completely serious.

"I don't mind at all Jonathan. Who is he? He seems like a real bastard."

"James Potter. Eldest son of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived."

My stomach twisted into something mildly uncomfortable. It seemed that I'd stuffed up more than I realised.

"Ah... It's a little late for that. I've already aggravated his younger brother. And the Minister's daughter. I get the feeling they hate me." I explained with a slight shrug.

"What on earth did you do to them to make them hate you on your first day?" Pucey chortled.

"Well, I insulted the Minister's husband on the Platform, then nearly called her daughter a Mudblood. On the train, I called Gryffindor a bastion of Mudbloods in front of the younger Potter. He wasn't too happy."

"You're in for it mate, but we'll watch out for you." Pucey chuckled, clapping me on the back with grin.

Higgs, who'd been quiet up until then, spoke up. "Slytherins look after each other Michael. As Jona said, we've got your back."

"Thank you Miss Higgs, I appreciate it." I said politely.

"Just Becca will do. Or Rebecca if you must." She laughed, "Here we are, do you have the password Jona?"

Directly ahead of us was a stone wall. That was odd, there wasn't a Common Room or even a door in sight.

"Pietas" Jonathan said firmly, "And don't call me Jona."

The stones that made up the wall rolled back dramatically, revealing a single, simple wooden door. Now that was an impressive bit of magic. We certainly didn't have anything that elaborate at Durmstrang.

Higgs was first through. She was quite attractive. Good legs, nice blonde hair. Decent form. Nice enough too. Far too old for me though, she must have been at least fifteen.

But the sight of the Common Room tore me away from all my hormonal observations. I'd never seen such beauty before in my life. We stood underground, no, not even underground, under water. You could see the lake through the large windows, like a... What was that Muggle Museum for fish? An aquariam? And like an aquariam, one could see all manners of sea creatures swimming by. Truly a sight to behold.

The lake gave the Common Room a green tinge, another aspect I found incredible. The entire room was lined with plush leather couches and comfy-looking chairs of the same material. Tables and desks littered the room as well. The clean-cut, orderly, green and black nature of the room filled me with a sense of calm. This is a place I'd be safe in, this is a place that I could call home.

Even the fireplace was enchanted so that the fire looked green. And green it was. I excused myself from Jonathan and Rebecca so I could soak up some warmth, nodding curtly to a group of wide-eyed first years who were attempting to do the same.

After finally getting warm, I realised that I should write to Mother and Father. They must have been wondering how I'd been sorted.

Making my way up a flight of stairs to a platform which had two doors on each end of it with 'Third Year Boys' and 'Third Year Girls' marked on it, I walked through the one marked 'Third Year Boys' and stopped to take it in. Three large green four poster beds stood tall, green curtains and green sheets decorated the beds, intricate designs making the whole four poster elaborate and beautiful.

The room itself was circular, the beds pushed up against the wall at differing angles. I recognised my trunk at the foot of the bed to the right. The bed in the middle that faced the door, judging by the S.M. etched into the trunk, belonged to my cousin. No idea who the third bed, the one opposite mine, belonged to, the only hint being V.G. on the trunk. Each bed had a bedside table, and a desk. With no wardrobe, I'd have to keep my clothes in my trunk. Kicking it open, I searched through it, digging out my quill, inkwell and parchment, taking a seat at what was now my personal desk, and began writing.

 _'Dearest Mother and Father,_

 _I have arrived safe and sound at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm sure you'll both be delighted and proud to know that I have been sorted into Slytherin House. I've been here only a couple of hours and I feel like I'm home. The Common Room is lovely, so relaxing, and as you both know, you can see into the school's lake! Not to mention, I've made friends with several fifth year Purebloods, such as Marius Flint (who was named after Grandfather); Jonathan Pucey, Jacob Urquhart, Gregory Goyle, Matthew Nott and Rebecca Higgs. These six were the first to welcome me into my House, and best of all, they respect blood._

 _The Dorm room isn't crowded at all, I'm pleased to note that I'm only sharing this space with two other boys, one of them being cousin Scorpius. Speaking of Scorpius, he's turned blood traitor! He's made friends with Potters and Weasleys, and dares to say that the war was our fault! Please talk to Uncle Draco about this Father, he needs to know that his son's been brainwashed. We had a falling out over it I'm afraid. I was looking forward to seeing him again, and this is how he greets me?_

 _I'm afraid to say I'm not very popular outside of Slytherin. Due to the events on the platform I've made enemies with the Granger-Weasley girl, the Minister for Magic's daughter. She's taken to glaring at me. It seems she's quite popular, as she's already turned all of Gryffindor House against me. I've also managed to alienate the Potter children. I met the second eldest of the Potter children on the train, Albus, where we argued over the merits of Gryffindor house and he grew angry. I suspect the elder Potter boy, who's two years older than me, will be trouble. But I've got Pucey and the rest of the group I've talked about behind me, so I'm not overly worried._

 _I'll be doing some inquiries into auditioning for the Quidditch team tomorrow, I'll be going for the position of Chaser, the same position I played under Professor Dolohov at Durmstrang. I look forward to playing once more. According to Scorpius, one of the Chasers isn't great, which gives me a shot at snatching the position from under his nose._

 _The way things have gone so far, I get the impression I'm not going to be very popular here. I might make some friends here in Slytherin, but I suspect the rest of the school will hate me. They call me a Death Eater and all sorts of other nasty names, and class hasn't even started. Things will not be good for me socially, but they never have for us, have they? As we always have, I'll persevere and continue forward, no matter what._

 _Your loving son,_

 _Michael Serino.'_

* * *

 **A/N: That's all folks! I hope you enjoyed it.** **Thanks for reading and keep your eyes peeled, as Chapter Four isn't far away! - BrownEyedSnake**


	4. Chapter 4: Daddy's girl

**A/N: Here we are again! Welcome back to the Last Pureblood, here we have another chapter about Rose, I hope you enjoy.**

 **I'd like to thank my beta readers, Julie, Ana and RadioactiveKittenCat (I don't know your real name yet) for doing an outstanding job once again**

 **And as usual, I'd like to thank you the reader for reading my work. You guys are truly fantastic.**

* * *

For two and a half months, the Gryffindor Common Room had stood silent, absent of all. But on the night of September the First it was filled with Gryffindors, chatting, laughing and singing – one of the students had got his hands on a guitar and was leading a rousing song. One thing was certain though, Rose Granger – Weasley would find no peace and quiet in there.

She'd only just come up from the Feast, to find that her beloved Common Room had been turned into a warzone of Gryffindors who'd seen fit to throw a welcoming party for the new students, who stood nervously with their new Housemates.

Despite the annoyances, Gryffindor was home for Rose. Here she was welcomed, loved and adored by the House. The past two years had seen her earn many points for the lions, both on the pitch and in the classroom. A genius, at least according to her Father, Rose had inherited her Mother's incomparable level of intelligence and thrived in the classroom. Almost straight Outstandings in all her class assignments, Rose was an incredibly talented witch. Not to mention, she was an incredibly dangerous player on the Quidditch Pitch. At the start of her second year, she had initially tried out for the position of Seeker, but lost out to Jessica Turner, a fourth, now fifth year Muggleborn student.

Nevertheless, her cousin James, seeing how well she flew, tried to persuade the Captain to try her out for Chaser. She succeeded, replacing a sixth year who upon finding out bitterly tried to hex her, which lead to James putting the sod in the hospital wing.

And it proved to be the best move the Gryffindor team made since putting James on it. James, Roxanne and Rose – or the Chasers Three as they'd been nicknamed by the student population, proved to be a formidable team. The other Houses struggled against them. Sometimes though, their combined talent wasn't enough. If one of them got taken out by a bludger, or the Snitch was caught by the opposing side, it was over. Much to her dad's chagrin, she'd been on the losing side of a Quidditch match more times than she'd like to be.

People liked to see a perfect girl living in a perfect world. What they chose not to see was all the hours spent pouring over books in the library and the time she'd spent in all weathers, training hard so she can keep her spot on the Quidditch team, and even then, she struggled last year at the try outs.

Sighing in resignation, Rose made her way over to her relatives. Almost all of them were in Gryffindor, a family tradition as it were. Not that Rose cared a fig for tradition, what mattered to her was what one chose to do with their life.

Rose took the seat next to her cousin and best friend, Albus. Her family was by far the most populous in the entire house. There was Al, kind, good-natured and shy. He didn't like to play Quidditch much, but he never failed to show up to watch Rose play. Mature beyond his years, she enjoyed many intelligent conversations with him; hence why he was her best friend.

Then there was his brother James; wild and unpredictable, not to mention annoying and awfully fond of pranks when paired with her other cousin, the darker-skinned, redheaded Fred. She didn't get along with him much before Hogwarts, but they looked out for each other, it was just what family did, after all. A year of playing Quidditch together solidified a sibling-like bond between the two of them, however.

Her eyes drifted across the room to her cousins, Louis, Molly and Lucy who were sat together at one of the tables lining the Gryffindor Common Room. The three were studious, and Rose sometimes joined the three for study sessions. She wasn't particularly close with Louis and Molly, but she liked them well enough, them being the Gryffindor prefects earned them a certain amount of brownie points in Rose's book. She especially liked Lucy, despite having to compete with her for first place in many of her classes.

"Rose?"

Rose turned to look at Albus, who frowned at her deeply. It seemed he'd been trying to get her attention for quite some time.

"What is it Al?" She asked, shaking herself of her thoughts at once.

"Did you enjoy the Feast?" He asked looking her straight in the eye, as if searching for something.

"Aside from when Serino showed his ugly mug, it was lovely, yes." Rose snorted, looking away from Al's searching gaze slightly. "I always enjoy the Start-of-term Feast, especially the sorting. Seeing the First years' little faces light up when they get into the House they want is adorable."

"HEY! I am not little!" Lily shouted from across the room, "I'm turning twelve in April!"

The girl had ears like a radar when she wanted to. Rose was very fond of her little cousin. She was a lovely girl. Young, girly and pretty. In some ways, Rose wanted what she had. A pretty complexion, straight red hair and an innocent view toward the world. All the same, Rose loved her like a little sister, and always strove to show her the right way forward, and Lily always came to Rose with her problems, great or small. The pair had always been very close.

Roxanne sat beside the fireplace, chatting animatedly with her latest muse, Jack. Or was it Tom? Rose couldn't keep track. Fred's sister Roxanne was her boisterous and loud roommate, not to mention, her comrade on the Quidditch pitch. But their liking of sport was where their similarities ended, Roxanne being far too wild and untameable for her. Even Fred had trouble with her sometimes. Roxanne had a tendency to jump from boyfriend to boyfriend, and at the young age of thirteen, had developed a reputation for breaking hearts. Rose didn't care much for rumours, and Roxanne kept her side of the dorm and the bathroom clean, so that was enough for her.

Rose dwelled on the subject of boyfriend's, staring distantly into the fireplace, where the yellow flames burned high. She was getting of an age where such things began to interest her, she'd never had a boyfriend before. Roxanne had offered to set her up with a guy from Hufflepuff, but she refused. She wanted to find a guy who truly loved her - and wasn't threatened by her brains and independence.

Her thoughts turned to today's events, and she realised that her experience with Serino this morning still bothered her. A Mudblood. He'd nearly called her a Mudblood. It made her feel awful, as if she was worth nothing. Her respect for her mum increased tenfold: how could she take being called that nearly every day for six years and even beyond? She didn't think she would've been able to handle it in her mother's place.

In truth, the boy utterly repulsed her. Snide, spiteful and cruel with an over inflated ego. Not to mention unattractive. When he wasn't scowling, he was sneering at something, and she couldn't decide which she hated more. His sharp, yet somehow vacant eyes just seemed to stare at you, and it made Rose very uncomfortable. Not to mention, his greasy, slicked back hair tamed with copious amounts of Merlin-knows-what.

Obviously he'd taken inspiration from his horrible father, who also slicked his hair back with some kind of product. It must be some kind of greasy family tradition. Rose smirked at the insult. She'd have to bring that up with James at some stage. But aside from their greasy black hair, and light brown shade of skin, the similarities between the two ended. At one stage of his life, Antonius Serino may have looked like his son, but the man's face was disfigured with scars from what must have been hundreds of battles.

She didn't look at him long because of that, but she could have sworn half his nose was missing. She wondered how that happened. More importantly though, why was he so nice to her Mum?

"Al? I think it's time I wrote to Dad. I want to know why Serino's father was so nice to Mum on the platform today." She sighed.

James looked over from the opposite couch, with his girlfriend Eva sitting in his lap.

"You're not still worried about Serino are you? I told you, I'll take care of him tomorrow," he assured, flashing her a dazzling smile before turning back to Eva.

"No, I don't care about him. It's his Father I'm concerned about." Rose frowned, "I think... Well, I'll keep that to myself for now." James nodded slightly, whether to what Rose said or to what Eva said, no one knew.

Albus replied with a quick, "If you think so."

Rose moved herself to the table, unrolling a piece of spare parchment as she went. Sitting on the seat to the large table, she picked up the communal quill, dipped it in the inkwell and began to write.

 _'Hi Dad,_

 _It's Rose writing. You'll be pleased to know that Hugo got into Gryffindor, I'm so very proud of him. I'm sure you are too, it's a fantastic achievement. The Scamanders got into Hufflepuff, Teddy's old house. Funny how these things work out isn't it? How are things back at the House? I hope you and Mum are alright by yourselves, I know it must be hard for the both of you. Hugo and I miss you both._

 _I'm writing to you about the unfortunate event that happened today at the station. I found out that the boy that Mother and I came across is called Michael Serino, the son of one Antonius Serino, the man that killed poor Uncle Fred. Just like his Father, he's completely disgusting. You weren't there at the time, but he nearly called me a Mudblood. I'm really quite upset about it Dad. How did Mum deal with it? It's awful. Not even Flint and his hooligans are this bad._

 _Albus met him on the train, and Serino called Gryffindor House something like a "nest of Mudbloods and Blood Traitors." He really doesn't have a problem with flaunting his horrible ideals. Even all the way at the Gryffindor table we could hear him boasting about how proud he is of being a Pureblood. How can anyone be so nasty? James says he's going to teach him a lesson, make him more respectful_

 _, but it doesn't change how bad I feel. What can I do Dad?_

 _But back to what I was saying earlier, what happened between Serino's dad, Antonius, and Mum? I only ask because they were so nice to each other. And it doesn't make any sense! He's an ex-Death Eater, obviously doesn't regret anything he did because Mum and I overheard him calling the Hogwarts teachers something horrible, something only a Death Eater would say. But then all of a sudden, he turns around and Mum's all nice to him! Doesn't let him have it or anything, and after his nasty son left, he was nice to her too! What's going on Dad? Perhaps this bothers me more than it should, but it's been on my mind ever since I left the station. Why would Mum be friends with someone whose son is so horrible to me? I miss you._

 _Lots of Love,_

 _Rose'_

Satisfied with the letter, Rosie rolled it up and went up to her dorm. Opening the door, she smiled at the five beds lined around the room. She was back. Her luggage stood waiting for her next to her usual bed, directly opposite the door. There, perched on her bedside table, was her owl Athena, which had obviously picked up on her wish to send something home. Putting the letter in an envelope, she wrote Ronald Weasley (Dad) on the outside of it, tying it to Athena's leg and sent her out the window. She should be back by morning with a response.

Rose collapsed, still fully clothed onto her bed, basking in its cushiony goodness. It felt good to get all that off her chest, and perhaps now she could sleep easy.

* * *

 **A/N: Another chapter done! A short one this time, but a chapter nonetheless. I hope you guys enjoyed it, stay tuned for Chapter 5! For those of you wondering how the story is coming along, you can check my profile to see how far along I am with each chapter. Enjoy the rest of your week!**


	5. Chapter 5: Letters from home

**A/N: Well well! Here we are again with Chapter Five! I know it's been a while, but hey, such is life. Doing my best to get Chapter six out to you guys as soon as possible. I love writing, it's damn good fun. And seeing how many people read it really makes me happy and gives me the motivation to go on. I know I thank you guys each time I post a new chapter, but my gratitude each time is as genuine as it is now. I hope you enjoy.**

 **Thank you to my wonderful reviewers and my talented beta readers, Ana, Julie and RadioactiveKittenCat.**

 **That's it ladies and gents, so relax and have fun. And welcome back to you all.**

* * *

For one of the last times of the year, the summer sun rose in a fiery ball above Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Unfortunately, I did not rise with it, and by the time my eyes opened, my three-man dorm stood empty.

Growling in irritation, I rolled off my bed and onto the floor, scrambling quickly to my feet. Sleeping underground would take some getting used to, no sunlight to wake my body up was not a benefit. Checking my silver lined pocket watch, it appeared that class would begin in an hour.

The ice cold water of the shower forced a good deal of spluttering and gasping out of me as the water seemed to pierce my skin like knives and chill me to the core. It usually took me a while to be ready, so I wasn't about to waste time waiting for the water to get warm. Merlin knew I could be there all day.

Every joint of my body seemed to shake, teeth jittering as I towelled off and dry. Using some of the sleek-easy hair-product that was gifted to me from Father on my last birthday. I'd have to ask for more soon, I was nearly out. Running my comb through my hair, I combed it back, so it gave off an appearance of being slicked backward. It wasn't the most flattering hairstyle, I suppose, but it was neat and efficient. And it was me.

Baring my teeth in the mirror, I was distraught to see that the bottom row of teeth were still quite crooked. Not that it'd have changed overnight, but it was something that I severely disliked. Both Mother and Father refused to magically straighten them, much to my grinding irritation.

Fortunately for me, my top row of teeth were as straight as can be, a textbook example of good teeth. Should I smile, it was important for me to remember to show the top row, not the bottom one.

My mouth curled into what I hoped was a smile, and staring back at me in the mirror was a malicious-looking young man bearing a striking resemblance to myself. The boy in the mirror grinned at me like an insane mass murderer who was about to bury an axe into someone's head. Grimacing, I made my way back into the Dorm Room. Maybe I should just avoid smiling for now.

Thank Merlin I had a good sense of direction. There was no one else in the Common Room when I came down, fully dressed in my uniform. One thing I noticed about plenty Hogwarts students, in fact, just the males really, was that they didn't care much for how they looked. They wore their ties loose around their neck, robes unbuttoned, shirts untucked. A disgrace really. Such a thing would get you caned in Durmstrang.

So it was, that I left the Slytherin Common Room my uniform presented perfectly. Shirt tucked in, tie tight around my neck and tucked into my grey woollen vest, and my outer robes buttoned up to just under the V of my vest.

The Dungeons had their usual cold darkness and served to soothe my nerves. And nervous I was, for today was my first day of classes. It was clear as day that most of the teachers, and most of the students, disliked me. It wasn't the students I was afraid of, but the teachers had the capability to make my life a living hell. It was essential in my classes that I didn't give them a reason to.

The cold of the Dungeons wavered as I stepped up onto the Grand Staircase. Vaguely, I remembered where the Great Hall was. If I could get past these infernal moving staircases, it shouldn't be a problem. They were not so wonderful now that I actually had somewhere to be.

This would get tedious if I had to do this every day. The stairs liked to move...a lot. Jonathan and Rebecca seemed to have some way of navigating them, but what that might be I had no idea. Perhaps it was just something that came with experience, and I could only get that if I used these irritating stairs.

Constantly moving, it took whole minutes to get to the next platform, as I had to wait for the stairs to move there.

Making my way up the last staircase, I sighed in relief as I stepped onto the first floor, and descended the steps to the Entrance Hall.

Walking into the Great Hall was far less eventful than I thought it would be. I expected stares, whispers and the occasional name calling. But no one seemed to care after last night's sorting. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took a seat at the crowded Slytherin table and piled my plate with some of my favourite breakfast foods.

Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs on toast, hash browns and a pair of beautiful-looking sausages. Squeezing a bottle of tomato sauce onto the plate, I created a small puddle in order to dip my food in.

Staring at the still hot food made my stomach growl with hungry desire. Only now, with this still steaming pile of food did I realize how hungry I was.

Using my hands, I took one of the sausages, dipping it in the pool of tomato sauce. I wolfed it down quickly, followed quickly by the other, both of which were delicious, in the way only a cooked breakfast was.

As I moved onto the bacon, crunching down on the crispy piece of pig, I noticed the man in the brown robes was moving down Slytherin table, handing out pieces of paper. I was halfway through my third hash brown when he got to me.

"Ahh!" he exclaimed brightly, "Michael, dear boy, welcome to Slytherin house. I must say, it's good to finally meet you."

Standing up respectfully, I shook the man's hand as he introduced himself.

"Professor Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin. Come pay me a visit once classes are over, my office is in the Dungeons. Here's your timetable, good luck on your first day!"

And with that, the Professor had moved on to the next person, handing his time table over. He seemed to be in an awfully large rush.

Leaving my food for the moment (with the promise of a swift return of course), I went over my timetable, my eyes narrowing at the amount of classes we had with the Gryffindors. That couldn't be a coincidence. Why on this good earth, did we have so many classes with the Gryffindors? This was ridiculous. Did they truly expect us to get along?

 _'Class Schedule for Student: Michael Brutus Serino_

 _Monday_

 _9 am – Muggle Studies (Professor Arthur Weasley, First Floor Corridor, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _10:40 am – Potions (Professor Horace Slughorn, Dungeons, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _12:10 pm – Lunch_

 _1 pm – Defence Against the Dark Arts (Professor Harry Potter, Third Floor Corridor, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _2:40 pm – Defence Against the Dark Arts (Professor Harry Potter, Third Floor Corridor, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _Tuesday_

 _9am – History of Magic (Professor Cuthbert Binns, Classroom 4F, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins)_

 _10:40 am – Transfiguration (Professor Andromeda Tonks, Classroom 1B, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _12:10 pm – Lunch_

 _1 pm – Herbology (Professor Neville Longbottom, Greenhouse 3, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _2:40 pm – Care of Magical Creatures (Professor Rubeus Hagrid, Hagrid's House, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _Wednesday_

 _9 am – Charms (Professor Filius Flitwick, Classroom 2E, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _10:40 am – Potions (Professor Horace Slughorn, Dungeons, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _12:10 pm – Lunch_

 _1 pm – Muggle Studies (Professor Arthur Weasley, First Floor Corridor, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _2:40 pm – History of Magic (Professor Cuthbert Binns, Classroom 4F, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins)_

 _Midnight – Astronomy (Professor Firenze, Stone Circle, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _Thursday_

 _9 am – Defence Against the Dark Arts (Professor Harry Potter, Third Floor Corridor, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _10:40 am – Transfiguration (Professor Andromeda Tonks, Classroom 1B, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _12:10 pm – Lunch_

 _1 pm – Care of Magical Creatures (Professor Rubeus Hagrid, Hagrid's House, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _2:40 pm – Charms (Professor Filius Flitwick, Classroom 2E, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _Friday_

 _9 am – Herbology (Professor Neville Longbottom, Greenhouse 3, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _10:40 am – Potions (Professor Horace Slughorn, Dungeons, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _12:10 pm – Lunch_

 _1 pm – Transfiguration (Professor Andromeda Tonks, Classroom 1B, Slytherins and Gryffindors)_

 _2:40 pm – Defence Against the Dark Arts (Professor Harry Potter, Third floor corridor, Slytherins and Gryffindors)'_

I had no further time to dwell on my classes, as hundreds of owls came flowing through an open window into the Great Hall. Frankly, it was a magnificent sight, watching the many owls drop their packages and letters into the hands of the intended. And indeed, amidst the sea of delivery birds, I spotted the Family's brown owl; Flavius, who perched on my neighbours stack of books and hooted in greeting.

"Hello Flavius." I smiled, stroking his wing, "You hungry? Here, have some bacon."

I held up a rasher of bacon, and the owl snapped it up in his beak hungrily. Greengrass Cottage was a long way from here after all, just outside of Holyhead in Wales. The poor owl must have been flying most of the night to get here on time.

The letter Flavius clutched in his talons bore the seal of the Serino family, a Dragon with a sword driven up its jaw. Breaking the seal, I removed the letter with vigour and read it. I'd always loved receiving letters, it was an exciting thing, even if it was just from Mother and Father.

 _'Michael,_

 _Your Mother sends her love. She's currently abed with the flu, but she asked me to express her pride that you made it into Slytherin. I too am very proud of you son, your ancestors on both sides of your family have been in Slytherin for hundreds of years. Congratulations._

 _I approve of your choice of friends, I know all their Fathers, especially Mr. Goyle. I'm pleased to hear that they still follow the old ways, send them my regards. As for Scorpius, he's your family. I won't force you to befriend him, but remember that he's your cousin, and a fellow Slytherin. I'll talk to your Uncle Draco about it._

 _Unless I'm very much mistaken, and truly I hope that I am, you will be the subject of harassment. You have my permission to respond with violence. You may get into trouble at school, but you won't be in trouble at home. However, I trust you won't let things get out of hand like you did with the van Baden boy at Durmstrang. I do not want to hear about you getting expelled again._

 _On a lighter note, I will be waiting with anticipation to hear the results of your try-out to the Quidditch team. I made the team in my Fifth year in 1995. Like you, I was a Chaser. If you make the team, you shall receive a reward._

 _Best of luck to you son. Stay strong, stay true to who you are. We may not be as rich as the Malfoys anymore, but our name is no less proud. I wanted to say this on the Platform before we were rudely interrupted the Minister and her daughter. You are a scion of the House Serino, and you are my son. I have never been more proud of you._

 _Draconicida!_

 _Your Father,_

 _Antonius Brutus Licinius Serino'_

Pride filled every crevice of my soul as I read the letter, it would have been so much better to hear it for myself on the Platform, but better late than never. At least now I'd have a physical memento of his words. But it wasn't fair that Father brought up my 'expulsion' from Durmstrang. I would have been leaving a week later anyway, and Friedrich Van Baden got everything he deserved.

Apparently, I completely shattered his spine with that curse. I'd spent all year practicing it with Professor Dolohov in private, but it was worth it. Last I heard, he was paralyzed from the shoulders down.

My lips curled into grin at the thought of that arrogant little bastard being pushed around in a wheelchair, completely broken and crippled, eyes filled with tears at the thought of not being able to walk again.

It wasn't really an expulsion. It was going to be, until Father wisely pointed out to the Headmaster how much the parents of his students would like to know that he'd hired an international criminal to teach their children. Apparently Professor Dolohov was wanted in Five European countries, not including Great Britain.

After that, it went from expulsion to, "Being removed from the school for your own safety, and the safety of others." And I was told in no uncertain terms that I was barred from ever returning to the school grounds for life.

Even knowing what would happen, I'd still do it all again. No regrets.

* * *

Rose stared in wonder at the two letters that were dropped onto her lap at Breakfast. Picking them both up, she checked and they were both for her. One of them was a normal envelope, but the other was sent from the Ministry of Magic.

Her stomach dropped; it was from her mum. But how? Unless Dad had told her about Rose's late night letter, she knew of no other way that she could possibly know. And Dad wouldn't betray her trust like that, he just wouldn't.

Deciding to get the worst over with, she opened the letter from her mum first with trembling fingers. At least it wasn't a howler.

 _'Rose Granger - Weasley,_

 _You will call off James this instant! He is not an attack dog that you can unleash on people you don't like! I am absolutely appalled by your behaviour! I can't tell you how disappointed I am in you. You won't be receiving any pocket money for a fortnight._

 _You should have come to me first in matters that involve me, going behind my back about me to your father is completely wrong, and I'm hurt by your lack of trust._

 _Now, I'll be first to say that I'll never be able to forgive Antonius for what he did during the war. He wasn't the person I thought he was. Antonius and I were very close at one stage, but his life choices ruined our friendship._

 _I was very close with all three of the people he killed, Fred to start with. And then Teddy's parents, Remus and Tonks, so I've got far more cause for grievance with him than most._

 _That being said, Antonius has served his debt with five years in Azkaban, a truly horrific place, and further alienation of him by society will drive him back into the arms of crime._

 _I'm not asking you to forgive him for what he's done to our family, but I was friendly with him at the platform in the hopes that he'd changed. Although I'll never forgive him, I had hoped he'd found some measure of peace. But it seems nothing's changed for him, and he's raised his son to follow in his footsteps._

 _Speaking of his son, do not let James anywhere near him. If Michael Serino is anything like his Father, further antagonism and hostility toward him will do nothing but make things worse, I can assure you of that. And judging the son for the actions of his Father is wrong, and will only push young Michael even further down his Father's path._

 _One thing you should know, is that Antonius is an incredibly proud man, and I'm sure he's raised his son to be the same. If he does try to hurt you, write to me and I'll come in to speak with him myself. My daughter will not be bullied._

 _I suggest that you talk to your Uncle Harry or Granddad Weasley about all of this. They're both very wise individuals, and they'll both give you excellent advice._

 _I love you very, very much sweetheart. You can write to me anytime you like. If I don't hear from you, then I'll see you at your first Quidditch match against Slytherin! Good luck at the try-outs!_

 _Lots of Love,_

 _Mum.'_

Rose smiled at the letter. Although she'd just had her pocket money docked for two weeks, her mum always had a way to make her feel better about it. So it was with a lighter heart, she opened the letter from her dad.

 _'Hi Rose,_

 _I was an idiot and left your letter out on the table, and your mum got her hands on it. She was furious. She said I wasn't to write to you about any of this, but I'm going to anyway. It might mean sleeping on the couch for a week, but it doesn't matter._

 _The Serinos are the worst kind of scum. Antonius Serino murdered my brother. Murdered Tonks and Lupin. Because of him, Teddy grew up without his parents. And from what you've told me, the son is exactly the same as the father. And they have nothing on you. I wouldn't place my money on ten Serinos better a job than my daughter._

 _Evil prats like the Serinos base their entire existence on their so called 'Purity of Blood' because they've got nothing else going for them. They've got no one who loves them, no warmth in their lives. No talent and no brains, otherwise they'd recognise how smart a Muggleborn like your mum can be. They've got no talent, and they're resentful that Purebloods no longer rule the Wizarding world. And good riddance I say._

 _Beat this Michael in every test Rosie. Beat him in every class, get better grades than him and beat him in any extracurricular activity he might do. If he plays Quidditch like his dad did, smash him. I saved quite a few goals from Serino back in my Keeper days, and did that make me feel satisfied. And if he raises a wand to you, kick his butt. Otherwise, let James give him a good going over, the runt has it coming._

 _Why don't you go see Hagrid after class today? I'm sure he'd love to see you, he thinks of all you lot as his friends. And he's great with people's feelings. I remember how great he was with your mum back in second year when Malfoy called her a Mudblood. Scorpius's dad was a lot worse back then, I still don't like him at all, but credit where it's due – he's not the same person he was._

 _I can't tell you what happened between your mum and Serino, Rose, she told me not to. And going against your mother isn't quite something I'm brave enough to do. Nor do I want to think about it. Just put it out of your mind, it'll be better that way for everyone._

 _I miss you too_ _,_ _Muffin. And I love you._

 _Dad.'_

The letter from her dad made Rose feel so much better. He was always the best at comforting her, and she always went to him when she was upset. Mum always did her best, but she was far too pragmatic. Sometimes, Rose just wanted someone to listen. A shoulder to cry on. And her dad never failed to give her that, despite her mum regularly accusing Dad of having "The emotional range of a teaspoon." At which point, both of them usually burst out laughing.

They didn't argue much, but that was because literally everyone knew and respected who wore the pants in that relationship. And it certainly wasn't dad. Rose supposed running a family must have been nothing compared to running a whole country. Dad just did his own thing. Rose wondered if her marriage would be like that one day.

Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way to her first class. Muggle Studies with the Slytherins. Fantastic. Usually it wasn't so bad. It was at first, but being shoved together for so much had the opposite effect of what she originally thought would happen.

After some initial quarreling, the two houses actually began to leave each other alone, realising it was far more beneficial to just crack on with it, than to spend every waking minute fighting and arguing. But throw the new boy into the mix, and the fires of dislike may very well burst forth from the ashes.

* * *

 **Well that's a wrap! I'm running out of things to say at the end of each chapter, how horrible. Great having you guys reading my stuff, I'm hoping to get Chapter six out to you lot as soon as possible. Stay tuned!**


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